


what's your name, man?

by fillertexted



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, and a reference to mental illness, i guess?, theres a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fillertexted/pseuds/fillertexted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'i don’t know who you are but we keep running into each other on the street and getting into screaming arguments over the stupidest things and i’m actually looking forward to our next meeting bc you’re annoying as hell but gdi you’re hot as fuck and its kind of fun to argue with you’ au</p>
            </blockquote>





	what's your name, man?

**Author's Note:**

> yo this is kinda messy and hastily written so feel free to point out any obvious mistakes

It was the strangest relationship Alexander was in. They didn’t keep any contact beyond happenstance meetings.

 He didn’t even know the other guy’s name, which made it even more infuriating. It wasn’t exactly a surprise that the relationship he cared about most was one where all they did was scream at each other the second they make eye contact on campus, which has led to many stares and nearly one arrest. It was just so _fun_ , so _invigorating_ , that Alexander was always filled with a small jolt of adrenaline when he faced his opponent.

The thing was, this relationship was based on the exact reason why they kept no contact; it was an accident. Alexander had been hurriedly walking to go discuss his latest essay with Washington when they had collided, sending Alexander to hit the ground hard while the other had merely swayed a bit. And, shit, there goes his bag. He only hoped his laptop wasn’t damaged.

With stars flooding his vision, Alexander looked up to see the person who actually knocked him to his ass. He was suddenly made aware of a hand in front of his face. Following the arm connected to the hand, he realized it was attached to a tall, dark, and mysterious guy with a very impressive head of curls.

The second thing he realized was that the guy was wearing a bright purple suit. He retracts his previous thought about him being mysterious. Was this guy for real?  He blamed the fact that he had been bodily knocked to the ground when the first thing that came out of his mouth was, “What the actual fuck are you wearing?”

As expected, the guy blinks before scowling. He drops his hand and retorts, “What do you mean, what the fuck am I wearing? It’s called fashion, sweetheart,” a southern drawl colored the vowels. The man paused and exaggerated looking Alexander up and down before continuing with a smirk, “I suggest you look it up.”

Who the hell was this guy? First he knocks Alexander to the ground and doesn’t apologize, and, while vaguely justified in his offence, proceeds to insult Alexander on his choice of clothing. Sure, a black sweater and jeans was not exactly high fashion, but who the fuck was the guy wearing a purple suit to judge? Scowling, he picks himself off the ground and, damn, the guy is at least a head taller than him.

“Well excuse me, not everyone wakes up in the morning and decides a goddamn purple suit is exactly fashionable. I mean, what possessed you to even consider purple as a suit color?”

The guy, who Alexander decides right that moment to call the Tall Asshole, visibly recoils, a sneer curving his lips.

“Did you not just hear me, or are you really that dense? It’s fashion, fah-shun, noun, a popular trend, especially in styles of dress and ornament or manner of behavior.”

Alexander snorts, half torn between anger at the patronizing tone and amusement at the ease of which he recited the definition to fashion, as though he knew it by heart.

“Shouldn’t it tell you something if you have the definition of fashion memorized, sweetheart?”

Tall Asshole’s expression turns stormy, eyes narrowing as he stepped into Alexander’s personal space, leaning down so his face was inches away from his own. Not one to shy away from a challenge, Alexander held himself in place; chin lifted slightly, eyes locked on Tall Asshole’s.

“Listen, _sweetheart_ ,” Tall Asshole spat out, serious venom lacing his tone, and _whoa_ , Alexander didn’t know someone with a southern accent could sound so _pissed_ , “I didn’t wake up today to be bodily slammed into by you and then for you to immediately insult me. You didn’t even apologize, asshole!”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Alexander nearly shouts, because seriously? Did Tall Asshole honestly believe that he’d wanted this to happen? “ _You_ ran into _me_ , and I just asked a question! It’s not my fault you decided to insult me! _And_ , you didn’t apologize either, asshole!”

They both glared at each other, before Alexander remembered that Washington was probably waiting for him, as he had been already nearly late to the meeting in the first place. Blinking, he shuffled back a pace before sliding his (thankfully) uncracked phone out of his pocket. A quick glance at the screen proved his suspicions, and he resisted the strong urge to groan. Instead he huffed and gritted his teeth, fixing his gaze back on Tall Asshole.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m in a hurry and I wasn’t watching where I was going. Is that good enough?” Alexander ground out.

Tall Asshole seemed to ponder this for a bit, before nodding tersely.

“Apology accepted, sweetheart. I won’t offer one.”

Alexander sighed and nodded slightly before retrieving his bag. It wasn’t as though he expected different. He was still dubbed as ‘Tall Asshole’ in Alexander’s mind, so really? There shouldn’t be anything _to_ be disappointed by.

Still, he took the opportunity to clip Tall Asshole’s side with his shoulder as he brushed past him, with no small amount of satisfaction when he squawked at the sudden pain.

 

-0-

 

That was the first time they met, and was certainly not the last. Alexander wasn’t sure what happened, but over the weeks, whenever he even thought he caught a glimpse of Tall Asshole he felt his heart race, and suddenly an argument bubbled beneath the surface, always about something that didn’t matter. Rather, they were about whether or not the cloud in the sky looked like a dick, or if Tall Asshole’s newest ‘outfit’ should even be considered clothing. The day he wore a sheer sweater was certainly interesting, with Tall Asshole insisting that it, “ _is_ a trend, sweetheart, but I’m sure you wouldn’t know what a trend was if it slapped you in the face.”

Alexander maybe had been a bit flustered, and was a bit embarrassed when all he could think about was ‘ _holy_ shit _he has a six pack how the fuck is he a real person’_ and it took a moment before he countered with a choked, “Glad you haven’t slapped me, huh?”

 So, yeah. It had very interesting, and then very disappointing, when Tall Asshole had only stopped to insult him for a minute before leaving just as abruptly.

Also, Alexander might have a _small_ crush? Because while Tall Asshole was still an asshole, he was hot, and Alexander felt no shame when he admitted it to himself. His friends, however, were a different story, because how in the world could he explain the random heart-eyes were because of the guy he shouted at on a semi-regular basis? He brushed them off with a chuckle and excuse, but he could definitely see how much they doubted him when he would try (and fail miserably) to looked casual as he scanned the crowds of people during lunch. It all came to head when John noticed Alexander’s distant gaze while he was recounting what happened during his last class on one of their frequent coffee dates.

“Look, Alex, if you weren’t interested you could’ve just said so. I wouldn’t have been offended.”

Alexander snapped to attention at the mention of his name, and when he returned his gaze from the table to John’s face, he knew immediately he fucked up. Though John hid it well, he could tell that by accidently drifting, Alexander had inadvertently hurt him. Alexander felt guilty. John’s self-confidence was already shot to hell because of his father, and whenever anyone ignored him, his mind jumped to conclusions, mostly self-deprecating. He knew that way of thinking and he had resolved early on never make John feel like that again. Alexander sighed. He was such a shitty friend.

“I’m sorry, John. There’s just been a lot on my mind lately,” Alexander really didn’t want to explain it was mostly just Tall Asshole. “I don’t mean to be ignoring you. What were you saying, though?”

John, however, just shook his head and glanced down at his hands, which were fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie. Well, fuck. He knew that if he spilled it would be wildly embarrassing, but it would almost certainly bring a smile to John’s face when he teased him for having a crush on someone he didn’t know the name of. A deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“Alright. I guess I owe you an actual apology instead of just sugar coating it, huh?” At John’s small nod, he continued. “This is kind of embarrassing, actually, but I know you need to hear it.” John’s interest was definitely piqued, as he looked at Alexander with a sort of quiet intensity, both curious and nervous. He swallowed.

“So, uh, you know the guy I’ve been yelling at for the past couple weeks? I, uhm, may have a bitofacrushonhim?” He rushed out, eyes seeking solace in the table. A moment passed before a surprised peal of laughter escaped John, and when Alexander glanced up, he could see that John was looking at him with amusement and relief. He blushed, smacking John’s hands lightly as he hissed out a, “shut up, asshole,” when John continued to giggle.

“Okay, okay,” John relented, quickly drawing in a breath in an attempt to contain his amusement. “Okay,” he repeated, now calmer, before a wicked grin spread across his face. Alexander inwardly sighed, steeling himself for the onslaught of quips.

“So, you’ve got a crush on mystery boy? My, my Hamilton, aren’t you full of surprises?”

“Was that meant to be offensive? Because I’m offended. You wound me, my dear Laurens.”

John snorted, leaning back slightly in his seat. Thank god he didn’t seem as upset. Alexander didn’t know what he would do if he actually hurt John and had no explanation. John continued.

“So what you’re saying is that you want to suck the dick of the guy you’ve been having shouting matches with? Why, do you want to make him louder?”

“John!” Alexander squeaked, cheeks flushing red as he once again swatted at him, trying to make him _shut the hell up_ because _god dammit_ now that he mentioned it he _did_ and he _absolutely_ does not want to think about _why_. John just moved away, head throw back slightly in laughter, unaware of the sudden mental breakdown Alexander was going through. He settled for a disgruntled, “fuck you,” as he waited for John to calm down.

“Okay,” John repeated again, wiping tears from his eyes. “So. You’ve got a crush on your mystery boy. Whatcha gonna do?” He quickly calmed down from his hysteria and leveled Alexander with an amused stare. He shifted slightly in his seat.

“Well, I’m not sure. If I confess, how will he take it? Will he say it’s a sin? Or just reject me altogether? What if he just starts avoiding me? John, I’m not sure that I could handle that.” Alexander groaned and buried his head in his arms.

John hummed understandingly. Stretching slightly across the table, he gently ran his fingers through Alexander’s hair, silently offering support as he thought. “Not to offend you, but if mystery boy hasn’t stopped talking to you yet, I doubt that you admitting a crush is going to harm whatever you guys have going on. If what you say is true, I’m going to bet he has a lot of people throwing themselves at him every day, so what’s one more?”

Alexander snapped his head up to look John dead in the eye. His arm fell to the table. “That’s the thing, John. I’ve seen people ask him out and him reject them, so what are my chances? They’re so slim they don’t exist. There is a zero percent chance that he could be into me. Hell, there’s a zero percent chance that he would even talk to me outside of our arguments.”

John sighed, and placed his hand on Alexander’s. He hadn’t noticed it had become a fist. “Look, it may be hard to believe, but trust me. Maybe he’s shy. You don’t often see people just outright state their crushes to said crush’s face. It’s possible you just haven’t noticed the signs. And just because y’all haven’t had conversations outside of your little spats doesn’t mean anything, it could just be because neither of you are willing to instigate them.”

Alexander didn’t want to admit he was right. Of course he was right. John nearly always had solid advice, and was an expert on how to deal with Alexander.  He sighed and reluctantly nodded.

“Alright. Maybe you’re right. But our arguments don’t really have a place where I can say, ‘hey, you’re an asshole but you’re also really hot, so why don't you go on a date with me sometime?’, y’know?  It’s mostly just yelling.”

John hummed, resting his head on the palm of one hand, drumming his fingers on the other on the table as he stared into space in thought. Suddenly, he shot up, snapping his fingers. “Why don’t you take him to a coffee shop? You could say it’s the best coffee in the world, and your mystery boy always seems to go with the counter argument, so when he disagrees, take him.”

“How am I supposed to make it a date, though? It’ll be shitty if we go here but we leave without anything significant happening.”

John shrugged. “So ask him to date you. Phrase it like a challenge like ‘I bet you wouldn’t date me’ or something like that. I’m sure a genius like you can figure it out.”

Alexander thought for a second, gaze unfocused on the table in front of them. On one hand, John could be completely right, and Tall Asshole might be into him. After all, who would willingly engage in conversations with him besides his friends? No one, no one except Tall Asshole. But on the other hand, what if he’s just humoring him, just arguing for the sake of arguing? God, Tall Asshole could totally despise him and he wouldn’t even know. Isn’t that why people argue in the first place? They find something unsavory about the other person and so they tell them that they’re wrong. Loudly.

At least, that’s what Alexander and Tall Asshole did. He didn’t know what Tall Asshole got out of the whole relationship, but he was willing to bet it wasn’t much. Alexander dropped his head on the table. John sighed. Alexander heard him shifting around for a bit, and the telltale sound of a chair scraping across the floor, before he ruffled his hair.

“Look, just ask him out. If he says no, you just have more fuel in your weird ass relationship. If he says yes, then you’ve got yourself a hot new boytoy. I know that it’s scary, but you’ll want to do it.”

Alexander just kind of wanted to stay in the darkness his closed eyes created. There, nothing was complicated, and Tall Asshole didn’t give him confusing feelings. John deserved so much more than whatever the hell Alexander was. He picked up his head and quickly placed his face on John’s chest before wrapping his arms around him tightly. John deserved the world. He could never thank him enough when he was being melodramatic. He huffed out a muffled, ‘thank you,’ before pulling away, looking up at John.

“No prob, Ham. Someone’s gotta make sure you aren’t being completely stupid,” He paused here, giving him a gentle look. “Text me when you do it, okay? Let me know how it goes. I’m here for you.”

And then he was gone, the bells above the door quietly chiming. Alexander dropped his head back onto the table.

He was fucked.

 

-0-

 

The next time he saw Tall Asshole, he froze. Currently, he was in a position where he could easily duck out of view and wait until he had passed, but, while he didn’t promise John, he knew that he’d be disappointed if he admitted he threw away his shot. And if there is one thing Alexander Hamilton did not do was throw away his shot. So, with sweating palms and shaky legs, he approached Tall Asshole. He was wearing gray sweatpants, and _damn_ if that didn’t do something to Alexander. Deep breath. He attempted to calm himself down and fell in step beside him, smirking when Tall Asshole glanced down and immediately sneered.

“Hello sweetheart, good to see you’re really bringing you a-game to the world of fashion. Tell me, oh wise one, how can I also make wearing sweatpants look so hot?” and shit, that was _not_ how Alexander wanted to end that sentence, but now the words were out there, and Alexander was ready to go throw himself off the nearest tallest object. He never really had a good brain-to-mouth filter, and he cursed himself viciously for it now.

Tall Asshole blinked, and stopped walking, and turned to face Alexander. The sneer had vanished. Shit, they had never flirted before, even casually. The only thing that could’ve been taken the wrong way was how they referred to each other as sweetheart, but Alexander wasn’t complaining. Tall Asshole had started it anyway, and it wasn’t like Alexander was opposed to calling someone so hot sweetheart.

Tall Asshole opened and closed his mouth a couple times, as though trying to figure out what to say. _Shit_ , Alexander thought, _you fucked up more than you hoped you did. Perhaps John really was wrong._

“Well sweetheart, first step is to go to my room, and second step is to lose the pants, you’d look hotter without them.” and _what?_ Holy shit, did Tall Asshole just flirt _back_? Granted, it wasn’t the strongest of pickup lines, but that was definitely flirting. Hell, Tall Asshole even looked _nervous_ , which was never an expression he’d seen before. Recalling on John’s advice, he opened his mouth and hoped for the best.

“Well damn, buy me dinner first. Or at least coffee. Just know that I don’t fuck on the first date, sweetheart.”

Tall Asshole seemed a bit dumbfounded, and probably would have stumbled if they were walking. Instead, a small smile grew on his lips. “Alright sweetheart, I’ll buy you some coffee.”

Alexander smiled back, and they began to head to the coffee shop he and John had been in just a few days prior. Suddenly, Alexander was hit. He could ask for Tall Asshole’s name. He could actually know, instead of calling him Tall Asshole in his head. He only realized he’d stopped walking when he noticed Tall Asshole was in his line of vision. He looked up. One of Tall Asshole’s eyebrows was raised.

“Hey, what’s your name, man? I kind of want to stop referring to you as Tall Asshole in my head.”

This sparked a laugh out of Tall Asshole, and _god_ if that wasn’t a beautiful sound. He wanted to hear it more. An amused smile curved his lips as he regarded Alexander.

“My name is Thomas Jefferson, sweetheart. Maybe you could return the favor and tell me yours?”

“Mr. Jefferson? Alexander Hamilton.”

They grinned at each other, both pleased to finally know the names of the person they had been yelling at for weeks on end. Side by side, they continued on their walk, unhurried. However, they had taken only a few steps when Tall Asshole, no, _Thomas Jefferson_ whirled around to face Alexander with a thunderous expression.

“Wait a second, you called me _Tall Asshole_?!”

**Author's Note:**

> so i guess im on first name basis with old dead white guys? that's exciting
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> i wrote this in two days while taking long ass breaks in between sentences and ive only read over it twice so sorry if everything has awkward sentence structure lmao
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> and of course i slipped in obvious references bc im trash
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> anyways hmu on my tumblr: [fillertexted](http://fillertexted.tumblr.com)


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